


Practice What You Preach

by teaandhunni



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bondage, Fantasy lube, Kinda, Light Masochism, M/M, Power Play, Spanking, accursed archives left me in flames, curran thinks hes a top, inappropriate use of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 21:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandhunni/pseuds/teaandhunni
Summary: Curran pays a visit to Heinwald's hidden library.





	Practice What You Preach

The sound of his heartbeat fills his ears—his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. It’s dim and damp, much as Heinwald likes it. Curran turns his nose up. It wasn’t enough that this room was difficult to find; it had to be at the basement floor of his labyrinthian estate.

He reaches the towering wooden door, resolving to let himself in. Inside he finds Heinwald, comfortably nestled between stacks of books, and for a moment his qualms melt away. He looks so natural there, with his hair tousled and a quill pen in his hand, biting his lip as he pours over the texts. Curran thinks, for a moment, that he should leave. Until Heinwald looks up at him.

“Enjoying the view?” He says playfully.

Curran steps further into view.

“Yeah. You fit in quite nicely here.”

“I should hope so,” Heinwald replies lazily as he leafs through a few more pages.

“You should draw me a map next time,” Curran suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You still wouldn’t find your way easily, my dear Curran,” Heinwald claps the book closed, setting it on the table with the rest. He scrawls something on his pad of paper. It doesn’t look like English.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have so much trouble if I had an escort,” Curran retorts, taking up the chair across from Heinwald. His posture is informal and lax; the opposite of Heinwald.

“Apologies. I’m quite busy, you see, so if—”

Curran cuts him off.

“Then why did you call for me? Asshole,” Curran stands up suddenly, lurching over the stacks of books. He realizes he’s gone red and feels the embarrassment wash over him.

“ _My,_ are we angry?” Heinwald sets his pen down, grabbing Curran by the lapels and tugging.

“Fuck off,” He barks, knowing he’s been backed into a corner.

“How very vulgar,” Heinwald’s expression is of mock sympathy. “I wanted to see you.”

Curran takes the leap and kisses Heinwald first, their lips meeting with a surprising gentleness.

“I missed you,” Curran whispers, as if someone might be listening. Neither of them pull away.

He feels a phantom tendril wrap around his ankle and knows exactly what’s going on.

“Shall we? Or do you want to relocate?” Heinwald is so close that his breath ghosts over Curran’s skin.

“And desecrate your studies?” Curran supplies.

“You make a point,” He trills, scooping Curran up with his spectral arms. The shadowy apparitions are kind with him, and it feels as though he’s simply floating.

Curran gripes about how it’s not necessary—that he can walk just fine—but Heinwald is off in another world, sliding a book case aside and ascending a flight of spiral stairs. Curran hears the door latch shut behind them.

“How exciting,” Heinwald muses, opening the door to his guest room. Curran recognizes it and something stirs inside him. He’s already aroused, by pavlovian effect if not the large shadowy hands restraining him. He didn’t fight it.  

“You sure have a lot of hidden rooms,” He notes.

“This way no one will find you when they hear your screams,” Heinwald cackles, rummaging through the bedside drawer.

“You gotta stop saying things like that,” Curran grimaces. Heinwald laughs louder.

“There it is,” Heinwald pulls a bottle from the drawer, tossing it onto the bed. He sits himself on the mattress with Curran suspended above him.

“Let me down,” Curran prods, trying to pull his wrists free.

“No need,”

The shadowy apparitions begin to strip Curran, popping his shirt buttons and yanking off his coat. It’s enough to make Curran fluster. He feels so exposed, and he blanches. He looks down at Heinwald, feeling like a spectacle.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, “Should I have put you on display for all of my houseguests? You’re quite the sight,” His voice is sultrier, and he pulls off his coat agonizingly slowly. Curran wants so badly to reach out for him.

“N-no, it’s just,” He pauses, finding himself at a loss for words. He’s distracted by the hands pulling off his belt and palming him through his pants.

Heinwald doesn’t leave him alone in it, continuing to strip off his own clothes. Curran wants to touch him. He thinks about how he’d like to grab onto his ponytail and sink his teeth into his collar. He’s not the one in control, though.

“How do you want it?” Heinwald asks, unbuttoning his shirt. He stares up at Curran through his thin, round glasses.

“You aren’t going to throw me into the crawlspace and make me beg for mercy?” He laughs, his breathing labored as the hands snake over his naked body.

“Really, _my dear partner,_ you make me sound so terrible,” Heinwald pauses, “Though it is tempting,” 

* * *

 

They’re both fully nude now, sharing a heated gaze that neither dared to break. The two were ridiculous when it came to a challenge.

“You gonna let me service you, or what?” Curran clenches and unclenches his fists. The spectral hands lower him to the bed, relinquishing him but still hovering.

He pours lube into his palm, slicking Heinwald’s shaft and stroking him generously. They’re both half hard already, and the anticipation is killing him. He can hear Heinwald’s breathing, which always turns him on. He’s always so staunch and stuffy that Curran revels in it when he comes undone.

He leans down to take Heinwald into his mouth, and those large hands are back on him again. The bedsheets rustle under Heinwald’s grip. Curran doesn’t let the looming aura deter him. He bobs his head along Heinwald’s dick, taking him as far as he dared.

He feels a sharp pain ringing through him. _Ah._ He continues anyway and feels it again. Heinwald spanks him hard, _relentlessly,_ and Curran tries his best not to choke on his cock. He groans around it, tears in the corners of his eyes.

“ _Good boy,”_ He coos, petting through his blonde hair. He’s such a kinky bastard.

The hands snap sharply against his ass, spanking him red. Curran’s cock is twitching and leaking precum. He couldn’t believe he was getting off on this—but, well, he could.

He pulls off with a lewd, wet sound, leaning up to meet Heinwald’s smug stare. Curran grabs him by his ponytail, curling his fingers into the nape of his neck.

“Lie down,” He demands, and a smile spreads across Heinwald’s face.

“A bold command coming from such a _sensitive_ man,” He teases, the phantom hands coasting over his cock and making Curran wince.

“I’m gonna ride you, so stop talking already.”

“Prepare yourself thoroughly, Curran. I’m going to be a bit rough on you today.”

Curran does as he’s told, spreading himself open as Heinwald sits back and watches. He sits underneath him, teasing his nipples and offering him encouragement, if one could call it that.

When he’s good and ready, Heinwald lines himself up, pushing in slowly with a generous amount of lube. Curran tenses for a moment, forcing himself to relax and welcome the intrusion. Heinwald makes a comment about how sexy he looks taking him in, and that’s enough for Curran to forget the discomfort.

“Would it kill you not to be so fucking huge,”

“You’re doing _so_ well, my dear,” He cups Curran’s cheek. Even he could be tender sometimes. “And I know you like it when it hurts a bit, don’t you?” Heinwald sneers. Curran took back the thought about Heinwald being tender.

He groans, shifting his hips slightly and adjusting to Heinwald’s size. The spectral hands support him by his arms, lifting him off Heinwald’s cock and letting him sink back down again.

“H-hey!” Curran makes to protest, but moans when he feels Heinwald seated even deeper inside him.

“I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you,” Is his reply.

Curran begins fighting back, trying to prove that he can do it himself. He puts a hand on Heinwald’s chest, using it as leverage to rock himself back and forth. However, those arms begin to set a breakneck pace for Curran, and he finds his rhythm slipping.

He moans absurdly loudly, his legs wobbling with the effort.

“Give in to me,” Heinwald murmurs between breaths. Curran thinks briefly that he’s going to cast a spell on him.

“I-I can do it,” He protests—but he’s slipping. He feels Heinwald’s dick slamming into him, and it’s dizzying.

“Curran, let go,” He says in a velvety voice. It makes Curran hot under the collar when he uses his name like that. So much for being a powerbottom.

And he does. He starts to relax, letting his body go limp. Heinwald’s magic leaves him secure—not gripping hard enough to bruise, but holding him steadfast and fucking him silly.

“It was a charming effort,” Heinwald looks up at him lovingly, heaving for a breath.

Curran frowns, embarrassed, but can’t bring himself to say anything more. He’s too turned on and busy letting himself be Heinwald’s plaything. It’s insanely hot how eagerly Heinwald is fucking him. He feels orgasm creeping up on him, and quickly.

“Heinwald, _Heinwald,”_ He groans, his voice warbling with each thrust inside of him. His body begins to twitch and spasm. He curls his toes and clenches his fists.

“That’s it, come for me,” Heinwald draws him in close, holding him to his chest. He gives him a few long strokes, milking him for all he’s worth. Curran cries out, cumming between them. Heinwald kisses him and finishes himself off, pistoning his hips and setting a tantric pace.

Curran continues to twitch and moan, his body overly sensitive. Heinwald gives a low moan, ejaculating inside Curran as they share an oddly intimate embrace. Curran whines as he feels it fill him, hot and messy and spilling down his thighs.

“You did great,” Heinwald assures him, kissing Curran’s head as he collapses onto him. The shadowy appendages disappear, melting into the corners of the room.

Curran nuzzles his chin gently, muttering something unintelligible.

“Hm?”

“I said,” Curran tilts his head up as much as he can muster, “I have to clean your cum out of my ass, you prick,”

“Aw,” Heinwald teases, wrapping both arms around Curran’s neck like he was a stuffed toy, “You’re so cute when you’re angry!”

The two of them lie together a moment, feeling like a wave sweeping back out to sea. Calm. Quiet. It was moments like these that made Curran remember why they’d become partners.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! leave me a comment if u luv Heinwald and Curran  
> dragalia fans we gotta rise


End file.
